Seasons of 1997
by KayDrew
Summary: The sequel to Rent. It is 1997 what's gonna happen this year? Rated T for language. Chap 8 is finally up! Please review. I live for reviews! I'm so sorry for not posting a new cha
1. January

"It's 1 AM, January 1st 1997. I am Mark Cohen. Pan on my face," The light red haired man slowly turned his camera so that the camera was focused on his face. Then he slowly turned it so that it was showing his side of apartment. Mark slowly walked over to the window and pointed his camera down so that there was an image of the littered street below. There was paper, confetti, cups, whistles, noisemakers and even a few people in the street. "This is the sequel to Seasons of Love. I said I was never going to make another, especially after Angels' death, but here I am, documenting my life…again." Slowly, Mark moved around the room. He zoomed in on the sleeping forms of Mimi and Roger, smiles on their faces as they slept side by side. Zooming out, he panned the whole apartment and stopped on Maureen's latest protest poster. It was a shadow photo of her in the Hudson River, she was black and the background was blood red. Over her head was the name of her protest (S.F.) and the date (January 3rd, 1997). "None of us are even sure what her protest is," Roger had scrolled at the bottom of her protest poster.

"So why am I doing this? I can't sleep is why. I woke up…gasping like a damn fish and coughing. My asthma…Focus in on my lovely inhaler," Mark muttered as he zoomed in on the inhaler by the answering machine and then turning off his camera. He had run out of things to film in this place. He went and lay on his bed, but didn't sleep, so just five hours later, Mark dressed in his usual red sweater, jeans, scarf and coat, grabbed his camera and bike and headed out.

Once outside, he turned on his camera and hopped on his bike. As he sped through the streets, he filmed the homeless, the strip club, a mugging and a fistfight. By the time he had gotten to the Life Café, where they agreed to meet that morning, everything was up and running – including the cabs. One of which almost hit Mark, but they both swerved in time so neither of them was hit. Mark hopped off his bike and chained it up, filming the job as he went. He went into the Life Café and was about stopped when a familiar voice called out, "Marky!" The maitride frowned at Mark, but let him pass. "Pan on the surely waiter," Mark said with a laugh. He walked backwards as he filmed the man. As Mark slid into a seat, he turned the camera off.

Maureen smiled at him. "Oh, Marky, are you filming another documentary?" she asked.  
Mark nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I started last night. I, uh, couldn't sleep," he stammered though Maureen did not notice, "Hey, Joanne. Joanne?" Mark felt this was a key moment in their lives and quickly turned his camera back on.  
"We're back together," Joanne, said with a sly smile, "We had a long talk last night…"  
"And everything's good." Maureen finished. The two women kissed and then both blew kisses to the camera with a hearty laugh.  
Mark smiled and turned his camera off. "So ladies," Mark began but was cut off by a small hitch of breath and a cough.  
"Are you OK," Joanne asked. Her deep chocolate eyes frowned in concern, "You look paler than usual."  
"Oh, I didn't get much sleep last night. My asthma is acting up. It's nothing," Mark said as Joanne gave him a clinical look but did not say anything else as Mark turned the camera back on.

Mark video taped Joanne and Maureen's very lively conversation as he picked at his food – he wasn't feeling to good. When he was finished, he left his part of the pay on the table and hastily left. That was the last they saw of Mark for two days. Roger was busy with Mimi and Joanne and Maureen were getting Maureen's new protest S.F. ready. No one noticed he was gone, until the morning of the protest. "I can't believe I didn't notice he was gone for two days and I live with him!" Roger exclaimed as Mimi put a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sure he's fine baby," Mimi said. Her voice was not convincing however. Roger shifted away from Mimi's hand. "If I don't see him here, I'm going to go look for him."  
"Look for whom," someone called behind him. Roger turned and looked in shock at his friend. He looked horrible. He had lost weight and he was pale and sickly looking. His breathing was rough and ragged. In his hands, he held the camera that was rolling.

"I've been living on the streets. I wanted to get into the mind of the homeless," Mark said as Roger gave an irritated sigh.  
"You look like crap," Roger said and Mark laughed hoarsely. "Well, gee that is a nice hello. Oh, Maureen's show is starting!" Mark hurried forward so he could film Maureen as she slowly rose out of the water, covering in seaweed and to get away from Roger before he could be questioned further. "How the two women got their equipment made safe to run under water, I will never know," Mark said as Maureen began her show. "I had a vision," she began, her microphone, "It was of…Mark?"  
Mark began to cough. He could not sop coughing. It was horrible. He could not breathe, seriously. His pale face turned red. With camera in hand, he put his hands on his knees, which buckled, and he sank to the ground. Dimly, the filmmaker was aware of people gawking at him and Maureen screaming, "MARK! MARKY!" as Roger rushed forward along with Mimi close behind him.

"Mark, can you hear me," someone said to him. It was Roger. He sounded really worried.  
"Can't breathe," Mark gasped to Roger, "Inhaler…" Roger nodded and felt in Mark's pockets for the inhaler. "It's not there."  
"Damn," Mark whispered. He just remembered that he had given his inhaler to a 10-year-old homeless kid who had asthma yesterday. He was screwed for the moment. He felt his eyes wanting to close. "Hey…hey," Roger whispered tapping him on the cheeks and feeling the heat in them.  
"Call 911," Roger said toMimi who nodded and quickly dialed, "Mark….can you hear me, Mark?"

The next thing Mark knew was that it was night.Joanne, Marueen, Mimiand Roger were sitting with him. He was in a cream-colored room, hooked up to an IV. His glasses were off and he had no idea where his camera was.  
"Hey sleepy-head,"Joanne said, "We were really worried about you. What were you thinking? You coulda died from pneumonia!"  
Mark blinked. He was confused. The filmmaker had been sure it had only been asthma.  
"You're gonna be fine though. You'll be in here for a few days,"Joanne said and Mark nodded. He was tired. Too tired to say anything and both men understood that he was.

It was more then a week Mark was in there in was twenty-seven day. Mark was glad to get out and to go home. When he got home – Roger had drove – Mark took up his camera.  
"January 31st,1997. I'm Mark Cohen. I just got out of the hospital because of pneumonia. I hate hospitals," he said and turning off his camera and readied it for February.


	2. February

"February 1st, 1997. The start of the second month…the month of love it's called. Cupid, I'm waiting! I have no girl friend," Mark said. He was outside with everyone – Joanne, Maureen, Roger and Mimi. It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was high and the birds were cheeping. It was not nearly as cold as it had been in January and Mark thought the sun and fresh air, especially after the horrible bought of pneumonia. All of them were sitting on two blankets in the middle of Central Park. It was their first picnic this. _Angel would love this and so would Collins,_ Mark thought and panned on Joanne, Maureen, Roger and Mimi's faces who wore an expression that said they were thinking the same thing. Two years ago,

"Oh, Pookie, I know the perfect girl for you and it's not me," Maureen said adding the last part in a hurry. Everyone chuckled a little. She stood hastily and took the camera away from Mark. "Pan in on Mark Cohen…the most pathetic bachelor in NYC," she said, but only in a joke. Joanne took the camera from Maureen with a mischievous smile. "And zoom in on the two love birds, Roger and Mimi making L-O-V-E."

The two stopped kissing, frowned at the camera, then laughed and waved. Mimi did her cat-walk and took the camera from Joanne. "Glance in on Joanne, the fieriest, finest babe in the world…"

"Who's taken by me. SO no one watching get your hopes up, OK? She's mine," Maureen said kissing Joanne on the lips gently and then smiling at the camera.

Laughing, Roger took the camera from Mimi. "And back on Mark Cohen, still the 'most pathetic bachelor in NYC'," he dictated as he gave the camera back to Mark, "In other news, Mimi and I are getting married on Valentines Day!"

Maureen squealed and hastily got up again and hugged Mimi and Roger. For the first time, Joanne didn't frown upon that; instead she clapped. "Way to go love birds," she said.

_Mimi and Roger are getting married. I can't believe it,_ Mark thought with a smile. It seemed things were looking up for the first time in a long time. Things were perfect. As the sun slowly sank down below the horizon, the gang separated. Mimi and Roger left first, then Collins and the finally Joanne and Maureen. Mark was left alone and was enjoying it. Sitting stretched out on the blankets, he watched the sun dip over the horizon and the stars slowly come out. It was silent, for a moment. There was then a scream. Mark hastily got up and ran towards it. He skidded to a stop. There was a pale young woman, stripped of her skirt and blouse, being raped by this burly thug of a man. "Get off her," Mark yelled, getting his mace out. He strode over to the man, who had stopped. "You get outta here," the brute yelled, "She's mine." Mark stepped forward and pushed him away from the pretty woman who looked as if she had come from the 1940's. The man pushed back and hastily, Mark grabbed his mace and squirted the man in the eyes. "Come on," he yelled to the twenty-year old.

The woman nodded and grabbing her clothes, she ran with Mark. As they ran, she slipped on her knee length chocolate brown leather skirt and her baby pink tank top. She ran barefoot threw the streets with Mark, until she stumbled and fell. She sat down on the curb and cried, holding her ankle.

Mark stopped and sat down beside her. He checked her ankle. "You just sprained it," he told her gently. The red-haired filmmaker reached up and wiped a tear from her eye. "Hey….everything's fine," Mark said gently as he picked her up, while juggling his camera, and carried her to his apartment. Carefully, he placed her on his bed and then sat his camera on his nightstand.

"What's your name, white knight," the curly brown haired woman asked with a small smile. She had an oval, thin and milky white face with a pretty, delicate nose, intelligent brown eyes, and full red lips and her mousy brown hair was at her chin and was curled and done in a hair-do of the 1940's. She was so beautiful.

Mark could not help but to gape at the girl in his bed. _She is so beautiful_, he thought. A laugh startled him from his thoughts. "Sorry…Mark…I'm Mark Cohen," he said, "Who are you?"

Wiping the remaining tears from her face, she smiled and looked up at Mark. Her sad brown eyes lit up in the moon light. "I'm Sam…Sam Lewis," She said as Mark came over to the bed.

He sat down and then lay down. Sam snuggled close to Mark and fell asleep. He liked the way she smelled – like cinnamon and mint – and the way she felt against him. He fell asleep and slept until it was dawn.

Slowly when he saw that Sam was still sleeping, Mark slipped out of bed without disturbing her. A strand of curly brown hair hung in front of her eyes and it shimmered in the sun. She looked like a goddess. Quietly, Mark picked up his camera. "February 2nd, dawn," Mark whispered just loud enough for the camera to pick up audibly, "I think I am in love. Pan in on…Sam." Slowly, he aimed the camera at the beautiful young woman and then turned the camera off. He sat it back on the nightstand and went into the main area of the loft.

Roger was up. He was in his boxers and a t-shirt and in the kitchen area of their place. The rocker was getting a bowl of cereal to eat, but he stopped when Mark entered. "Hey, are you OK," he asked, "You got in pretty late, didn't you? What happened? You weren't mugged, were you?"

Mark shook his head. "No, dad," the filmmaker said sarcastically, "I wasn't mugged. I, uh, found a girl." Marks cheeks redden.

Sitting down the bowl, Roger went over to his best friend and clasped him on the shoulder. "You dog," Roger laughed.

"It's not what you think, Rog. I found a girl being raped. I brought her here," Mark whispered.

"Is she O.K.," he asked as he picked up his bowl again and poured milk onto the cereal. He put the spoon in his mouth and took a bite of the cereal. As he ate, Roger did not say anything. He just thought about Marks news. "Do you love her," he asked suddenly.

"I think I might," Mark whispered with a sheepish grin. Before his best friend could reply, Sam limped out of Mark's room. The sight of the woman made Roger drop his spoon. She was beautiful. "Umm….hi," he said after realizing he was gawking.

Sam blushed and smiled. "Hello, I'm Sam," she said, sitting down on the stool at the butcher tabletop.

"I'm Roger," he muttered as he went back to eating, but doesn't stop watching Sam. She has in her hands a photo from Marks room. Roger notices it and takes it from her. "I haven't seen these photo's for a long time," Roger commits.

"I found them under the bed and framed them," Mark said as he took the set of photos from Roger and looked at them. In the first photo they all were there – Benny, Roger, Mimi, Collins, Angel, Joanne, Maureen and Mark. His mom had been visiting and took the group shot. Everyone was smiling, well, except for Joanne and Maureen who, even though they were looking at each other, looked as if they could tear each other apart. Roger had his arms around Mimi and so did Collins have around Angel. Benny and Mark were sitting on the ground. It was just months before Angel had died. The next one just had Roger, Mimi, Joanne, Maureen, Collins, Benny and Mark – this one taken by Mark's brother, James. It was a year after Angel's death and everyone looked so sad. It was the last time they had seen Benny. Just two days after this photo was taken, Benny was hit in a car crash and died instantly. The next photo was of just Mark, Mimi, Roger, Joanne, and Maureen all dressed in Halloween costumes – they were Angel's costumes. It was three years after Angel's death and six months after Collin's. AIDS had taken both of their good friends, but now the two lovebirds were together. The last photo was just Mimi, Roger, and Mark. Joanne had gone off to New Jersey in 1994 for a temporary job and Maureen had taken the photo – Joanne returned to the Big Apple on Thanksgiving of 1996. To look at these photos were hard. It reminded Mark of their deaths, but it also reminded him of the good times. Mark could tell that this new faze with Sam in his life, Roger and Mimi marrying and Joanne and Maureen back together would be a good one. Mark Cohen poured both Sam and he bowls of cereal and the two ate in happiness and with quietness. The two did not have to talk to be happy – just being together was enough for them.

For the rest of February, life was wonderful. Sam was accepted quickly into their group and made the second brides-maid in Roger and Mimi's wedding, Mimi planned the most beautiful wedding in the world with good food, music and a ceremony that was beautiful, and Mark filmed all of this – except for the parties the night before. Life was perfect. What could go wrong?


	3. March

"March 1st, 1997. I'm in love. Everything's perfect. I love not only Sam, but also everything. I've never seen the city through these eyes before. I have a new love of the Big Apple. I love the way the clouds look and how the sun makes the Hudson look like a ruby. I love the smell of the air when I first wake up. I love how birds sing. I could go on, seriously, but I can't. There's a Life Support meeting. I go each week, even though I don't have AIDS. I will end with this. I've never felt so alive."

Mark Cohen turned off his camera. He would need to save it. Mark always filmed a lot at these meetings. He loved to capture the AIDS victims. He wanted to keep their faces into memory. These people were the silent advocates and with his filming, these silent people could be heard. A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. He put his camera in it's bag and hurried out of the room and to the door. Mark slid it open and a slender young woman dressed in a red floral dress and hair as perfect as ever came in and tenderly kissed him on the lips.

Mark's face flushed as he kissed her back and then wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you ready to go to Life Support," he asked her as he released her from his grasp.

The young woman nodded and took his hand and led him out the door. "Mark, why don't you move in with me," she asked, "My flat is huge and it's lonely there and this place isn't in the best condition. I wouldn't want you to get sick like you told me you did in January. This place is drafty."

The man looked at Sam. His eyes were wide. She was right – the place was cold and drafty. It was no safe place for him and Sam's apartment was very beautiful, warm, and comfortable. It was in the 'rich' part of the city. Sam was rich, very rich, well her parents were. Her father was the owner of the leading company that manufactured hospital equipment and her mother was the top brain surgeon in NYC. Even with the money and everything, Sam was grounded, kind, and never cruel. She was going to school to be a journalist, but she made extra money (even though she did not have to) by modeling. He smiled at her. "I'll do it," Mark said. It had been just him living here for the last couple of weeks. Roger had moved out and into a better place with Mimi. This please was too big for just one man. "Great," Sam said as she gave him a kiss.

Mark closed the door and the two young lovers walked out of the building and to Life Support. The meeting had already begun when Mark and Sam got there. To catch them up, Mimi leaned forward and whispered, "He's dieing -Gordon is. He does not have much longer. After this meeting, he won't be coming any more. We were just getting ready to vote when you came in."

_Another one bites the dust with AIDS,_ Mark thought bitterly. Lacing his fingers with Sam's, he gave a squeeze and then got his camera up and open.

"So," Gordon said. He was so pale and the man looked very nervous. His confidence was barely there through the rest of the meeting. It was voted that Roger would be the new leader of Life Support. Mark filmed all of this and as they left, he shot the walk back to the flat. He did turn off his camera. "So," he said, kissing Sam.

"So," she echoed, "You ready to take the leap?" Sam smiled up at Mark and kissed him. Sam looked at Mark's watch. "Crap, I gotta go. I'll see you later this evening at our place." Sam pecked him on the lips and left.

"See you, love," Mark whispered. The film maker followed her to the door. Waving meekly, he shut it behind her.

They barely saw each other because of her classes and his packing. The documenter kept himself very busy with his packing. Each day, he would only take a few things away however until only his bed and two sets of clothes were left. It was now March 14th. He had not told Roger about moving and it was time because tomorrow he was leaving this place behind for good.

Mark paced his room nervously. Sometimes he would stop and look at the shots he had gotten, but mostly he paced back and fourth. He only stopped pacing for good when the door opened and shut as Mimi and Roger entered. Unsure what to do, Mark just stood there. He could not even say, 'Here!' when Roger called to him; all Mark did was grunt.

Roger stuck his head into the room. "He…what the fuck happened? Where's everything," Roger asked. His grayish-blue eyes shown with worry.

Clearing his throat, Mark began. He told Roger and Mimi about Sam asking him to move in and him accepting. With each word Roger became madder. Mark did not expect that at all. When he was done, Mark just stood there. No one spoke for the longest time.

"I want you out," Roger said suddenly, "Now. I want you out of my life and out of this place. Now leave. Go. I don't want to see your little rat face around here or anywhere ever again!"

Mark stepped back. He was very shocked. Glancing at Mimi, Mark could tell she was just as shocked and confused. "What's your problem," Mark asked, "I thought you'd want me to be happy. Is it that you, washed up or a rock star, only want to be happy? Can't his 'rat faced' best friend be happy too? Go to hell!"

"Back at you," Roger screamed. He threw the last of Marks clothes in his arms and shoved Mark to the door, "I'm changing the lock, so don't try coming back."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mark said in a huff. He stormed out of the apartment and to his new home with Sam.

The rest of the month went with no other problems. He was happier than he had ever been, except for one thing. The fight he and Roger had lay heavy with him. The film maker tried to forget it, but it would still haunt him at some points in the day. He wanted to be friends with Rog, but Mark did not think that would ever happen.

"Fuckin' fights and love. How March ended – it ended in a bam. What more can happen this year," Mark said with a sigh. Tomorrow was April 1st and he had a funny feeling something bad was going to happen.


	4. April

"April 1st – 6 AM. I can't sleep. My mind's whirling. That fight with Rog lies heavily with me and I've a bad feeling about, well everything today." Mark whispered in the camera that he had propped up while he fixed cinnamon/sugar oatmeal with bananas. He was busy with his cooking and was surprised when Sam came up behind him. She kissed his neck and whispered, "Good morning."

Mark turned his head and smiled at Sam. "Hey, you, did you sleep well," he asked. Gently, Mark Cohen pecked her on the cheek.

"Wonderfully Cohen, wonderfully," she whispered dreamily, "But I always do when you're by my side." Moving swiftly and gracefully, Sam went around and sat down on the wooden stool. She reached for the jug of juice and a glass and poured herself some orange juice. Taking a sip, she smiled. "I have to go to see about that job at the library after breakfast. Then do you want to meet at that new place Club Harmony," Sam asked.

"Sure. I'd love to go to Club Harmony," Mark said perkily. He gave her a smile as he divvied out the oatmeal and bananas. Handing her a bowl and spoon, he came around and sat down. Through the meal they ate and talked. For two weeks life went on like this. They would eat, Sam would go to her job at the library (which she had gotten on the first), talk, and have fun. The good times would soon end however.

While Mark was out filming a street fair that's profits would go to raise money for cancer research, Sam straightened up the apartment. It was her day off and she did not feel like going out. There was a rap on the door, which made Sam jump. Even though it had been two months from the time of the attack, she was very nervous, especially when Mark was not around. She went slowly towards the door and peered into the peep hole. There was her father, dressed to the hilt as usual and looking upset. Sam opened the door. "Daddy," she said, stepping aside so that he could come in, "Is anything wrong?"

"Where is he," he demanded. His dark brown eyes looked black from anger and his brow was lowered. The man, John, stormed into the apartment and seemed to fill it with unseen height and anger. "The boy that you've been living with, where is he?"

Sam was scared. She pressed herself against the wall. The young woman wanted to run or disappear, she didn't know which. However, she could do neither and so she just stood there. "He's gone out, daddy," she said, "Marks gone out."

The man turned and looked at Sam. "Is he worthy of this family," John asked. His nostrils flared and his brown eyes furrowed; the anger was apparent.

"Do you mean: is he rich," Sam asked, "No, father, he's not. I don't care if he's rich or not. I love him. He loves me. Mark saved me from being raped. He's a really good man."

"I won't have this! You're coming with me," Sam's father said. He grabbed her roughly on the arm and escorted her out the door. Locking it behind him, John walked Sam to his car and drove off.

A few hours later, Mark came home. "Sam," he called. When Mark got no answer, he called out again. _Must be out_, he thought, however there was a growing fear something else happened. After eating a small meal, he went to bed, but didn't sleep.

The next morning, he woke after just four hours of any real sleep. Sam was still not home. Mark called the police and reported her missing and then went to her father, whom he had never met.

"Mr. Lewis," he said as he entered after knocking. The man sat at a mahogany desk with a computer, a name plate and a few files on the top. John Lewis was looking at a file and only grunted recognition when Mark spoke. Only when Mark sat in one of the two leather seats, did he close the file.

"What do you want? Do you need to sew someone? May I ask who you are," John asked. He thought he knew who this scrawny _kid _was, but he didn't let on.

"I'm Mark…Mark Cohen. I don't need to sue anyone, thank-you. I'm here about your daughter, Sam," the film maker said. He felt his palms go sweaty and his throat dry. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Have you seen your daughter? She didn't come home…to the apartment yesterday. I'm worried."

"I wouldn't worry. She's fine. Sam likes to disappear for awhile and then show up. Now will you please leave, Mr. Cohen? I am very busy," John said going back to his work.

Mark wanted to cuss or to scream, but he did neither. As he exited the firm, he pulled his camera out. "Something's not right. The way Sam's father acted…it just did not seem right," he muttered as he reached the apartment. Trying the key, it did not work. The lock had been changed and there was his old, brown, hard suit case sitting there. He was homeless. Picking up the decrepit bag, Mark stormed off.

A week later, Mimi went to Sam's apartment. She had been there just one time, but recalled it vividly. She knocked and waited. The dancer crossed her arms over her chest, drawing the denim coat tight over her red shirt. She tapped the toe of her camel colored boots on the ground as she waited. Turning suddenly, she stared at the middle-aged woman coming up the stairs.

"Hello, are you looking for Sam Lewis and her boyfriend," the woman said. She had bright red hair and a lovely smile. She was dressed very spiffily and carried a brief case. Her eyes shone with a kindness that Mimi could not help but to smile at.

"Yes, I am. Have you seen either of them? I haven't seen Mark or Sam for three weeks," Mimi said. She chewed on her lip.

"Oh, hon, Ms Lewis and her boyfriend don't live here any more. I don't know where either of them is. I do know it's been about a week since I last saw either of them and Ms Lewis' cleaning woman did not show up. I am sorry. Both seemed to disappeared," the woman said, "Good day."

"Good day," Mimi whispered as she went down the stairs. Her mind was whirling. Where was Mark? Where was Sam? Why did both of them disappear? Leaving the building, she rushed to the small and shabby apartment Roger and she lived in.

Roger was on the couch, playing his guitar. He almost jumped or fell when Mimi came in. When he saw the look upon her face, he sat his guitar down and went over to her. "Baby, what's wrong," he asked her.

"Marks missing and Sam's gone. Why didn't he come here," Mimi whispered, "He knows he is welcome to stay with us." She frowned at Roger, who looked like he could explode.

"He can take care of himself," Roger said. He went back to the couch and took up his guitar. The rocker ignored the look Mimi was giving him and soon she stormed off in a huff.

Mark on the streets. He was cold, even though it was April, hungry and getting sick. His asthma was acting up and he had little medicine left. To occupy his time and to forget the restricted breathing he filmed everything – the drugs… the fights… the people. If he ever got a chance to edit his film, Mark felt that it would be his best movie ever. The film maker did not know if he would ever get too however.

At the end of April, there was a freak snow storm. It was bitterly cold and blustery. His asthma got worse with each day that passed. Soon the asthma wore his body down. He no longer go on – he was so tired and he could scarcely breathe – and the film maker collapsed in front of an old church. Snow swirled around Mark, but that was the only thing that moved.


	5. May

_There was a white light surrounding him. The light was blinding. Mark had to squint as he looked around. Down at his feet was something that felt like snow, but it was not cold. Maybe marshmallow would be the texture, Mark thought. A small smile crossed his face as he thought that. That was just silly. The world wasn't made of marshmallow. Where he was, Mark was not entirely sure. The last place he remembered was being in front of a church. _

_He had been looking for Sam, as Mark had done every single day since she had gone missing. There had been a few clues to where she might have been, but nothing substantial. He had been about to abandon his hunt for the day, when he had passed out. _

_Mark looked to his side, his camera was gone. Great, I was mugged, the film maker thought with a groan. Running a hand through his spiky hair, he stopped wandering around this weird place for a moment. There was a sound and Mark turned around quickly._

_Angel and Collins were standing there. They were smiling and looked better then ever. Angel sidled over to Mark and put his hands on his hips. "What are you doin' here? It's not your time," he asked._

_Mark was surprised by this question. For a moment he just stared at Angel, blinking and with his mouth agape. "I'm not dead and what if I was? I've lost her. I've lost Sam…"_

_"We know all about Sam, Mark. You gotta go. It's not your time. You're gonna find her," Collins said. He gave him a smile. "Go on bitch. It's not your time," Collins said waving in his usual way._

_Slowly Mark nodded. It wasn't his time. He'd find Sam. Mark turned and headed away from his two friends. _

"He's waking up," someone said. The speaker bent down over Mark.  
Can you hear me, Mr. Cohen," she asked. Her hair was short and there was a knitted cap on her head. She had a parka on that made her look like a blue marshmallow person.

Mark was shivering, even though he was wrapped in heated blankets and was feverish. His teeth chattered under the oxygen mask and his face was a sickly pale. "Yes," Mark said and started coughing.

"Calm down, Mr. Cohen. Just take slow easy breaths. Don't try forcing breath in," the paramedic said as she and her partner raised the stretcher to roll him into the ambulance. "You're lucky to be alive, Mr. Cohen. We thought we had lost you. Its lucky Sister Gabrielle saw you and called 911."

Mark listened to the paramedic talk and slowly the coughing fit subsided. As she spoke, he felt drowsiness settle in and he soon fell into a deep slumber in which he did not wake from fully until all most two weeks later.

"Marky," Maureen shouted as Mark stirred, "Oh we were so worried. We didn't know if…well anyway, how are you feeling Pookie?" She was sitting in one the chairs next to his bed with her feet tucked under so that she was sitting on her toes. She held his glasses in one hand along with his camera in the other hand. On the opposite side of the sick-bed, Joanne sat there with feelings of déja vu. "We just were aloud in here yesterday. You have been really sick, Mark," Joanne said.

"What day is it," Mark asked. His voice was raspy from being so inflamed and from the dehydration they tried to keep at bay with the IV fluids they gave him along with the antibiotics and 'warming' solution.

"It's May twelfth – nine P.M.," Joanne said and when she saw the disbelieving look upon his face she explained to him, his condition, "You had the worst case of pneumonia anyone has ever had, plus your asthma made it worse and you were hypothermic. Why did you stay out on the streets like that and where is Sam?"

Maureen frowned. She had been wondering that too. "Yeah Marky - why? Why were you living on the streets? Where is Sam," she asked. Her head cocked to one side as she tried to figure everything out.

"Can I have my glasses," Mark asked. Maureen jumped up and placed the glasses on his face. He gave her a small and friendly smile. Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Sam's dad kicked out of her apartment. I don't know where Sam is. I haven't seen her in a month. I've been looking for her. Her dad, he said she liked to disappear for awhile, but I didn't buy what he told me. I couldn't go to Roger and Mimi's apartment. He told me never to come back. I haven't talked to either of them since March…" Mark's voice drifted off and he gazed vacantly at the wall in front of him.

"Oh Mark," Joanne said. She laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. "We'll find her. Why don't you stay with Maureen and me after you get out of here?" She knew they were not best friends, but they were friends and when a friend was in trouble, she would do anything to help them.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," Mark said s he stifled a yawn, "You two go home. I'd like to rest a bit."

"OK. We'll come by later. Sleep well," Maureen and Joanne said in unison. They waved. Maureen blew a kiss When Joanne frowned at her, Mark laughed slightly.

Before going to sleep, Mark picked up his camera. "May twelfth. I haven't filmed in two weeks. I was so sick," Mark said into his beloved camera, "I wish I could find Sam. I love her so much and I miss her." He switched the camera off, placed it on the bedside table and fell asleep.

Two days later, Mark was told he could leave, just as long as he did not exert himself until he was stronger nor live on the streets. Bundled up in a coat Joanne bought him – the thin jacket Mark normally wore wasn't warm enough for him; at least Joanne did not think so. He sat in the wheelchair with his camera and brown jacket in his lap – the little clothes he owned were gone. Someone had stolen them while he lay passed out in the street. When Mark saw Joanne try to help him into the cab, he stood hastily. "I can do it myself, thanks," Mark said as he got into the cab. Joanne and Maureen slid in next to Mark and the cabbie began the journey to Maureen and Joanne's apartment.

For over two weeks life went on monotonously. Mark would get up, eat some cereal and drink a cup of tea, go out and film – while looking for Sam -, come home eat and go back out until seven or eight at night as he filmed and looked for any place he could afford, when he would return to his friends apartment. Things changed on May thirty-first. Mark came home early because it was very over cast and looked like it would rain. Maureen and Joanne were out – as a note on the door said. He pulled it off as he entered the flat. Mark looked down at the floor. There was an envelope laying there addressed to him. He picked it up and opened the envelope. In there was a short unsigned, letter.

_Mr. Cohen,_

_Come to the alley behind the Life Café tomorrow at nine o'clock at night. Come Alone. I have something for you. _

Mark read over the letter and even turned it over to see if there was anything else written on it, but there was nothing else. He took the letter to the guest room he was using. He sat down on his bed and took his camera out. "Weirdness is about to happen," he said into the camera and then he shut it off.


	6. June

I finally have written the next chapter! It was a hard chapter to write. Also, school has been hectic!. I hope you enjoy. Please review.

* * *

"June first, 1997. It's Eight fifty-one PM. I am waiting for the unsigned," Mark said into his camera with a heavy sigh. He was out behind the Life Café, as he had been instructed, and waiting for the mystery person. There was a sudden sound and Mark jumped. Wheeling around, he saw a woman dressed in full habit.

"Mr. Cohen, I am Sister Grace," The nun introduced. She was elderly and a small woman. Sister Grace offered him her hand to shake.  
Dazed, Mark took it and shook it briskly. "Why did you want to see me," he asked her, "I was surprised to get your letter."  
"Here," she said handing him the item in her other hand. It was a photo. Mark stared down at it. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at the photo. It was of him and Sam.  
"Sister Gabrielle, come out," Sister Grace said. Attentively, the nun came out from hiding. "Mark!" She exclaimed.

"Sam," Mark whispered as she ran over to him and threw her arms around her. Thinking Over was playing in the Life Café and it seemed to fit the mood of the night perfectly. "I never thought I would see you again."

"I didn't think so either," Sam sobbed, "I was so scared when I saw you out there in front of the church. I thought you had died."  
Mark held her close and breathed in deeply. "It's OK. I'm OK. What happened," Mark asked. He looked down at her. She looked so vulnerable and as if she needed protecting.  
"My father found out about you. He didn't want me with you so he took me out of school and put me in a monastery," she explained quietly.  
"Your dad told me you ran away and then he changed you locks," Mark said quietly. He shook his head slightly. Mark had thought what her father had said was bull, but he could not have imagined all of this.  
"Sister Gabrielle…Sam, I think you had best leave the monastery," Sister Grace said, "I think you have more important things to do." The elderly woman smiled. She nodded to Mark and winked.  
Sam laughed. She nodded her head. "I think you are right, Sister Grace. Thank-you," she said waving the kind nun as she left. Sam looked up at Mark. Her eyes shone with happiness. "Where do we go?"

"Maureen and Joanne are letting me stay with them," Mark explained, taking her hand and walking Sam back to Maureen and Joanne's apartment. The two women were sitting on the couch watching TV when they came in. "But, I think we might need to get our own place," Mark said as Sam nodded her head.  
"Mark, you've found her," Joanne exclaimed, standing up and looking her over, "You're in a nun's habit? Come! Sit and tell us what happened. Mark about died because of you." She lead Mark and Sam over to the couch. Maureen stood and sat down on the floor and Joanne sat down in an over-stuffed chair.  
"Actually, she sort of found me," Mark said, "As you know, Sam went missing. I went to Mr. Lewis, as you know, and after that, I knew something was wrong. I didn't know what."

"The last time you saw me, Mark, my father had come to our apartment. He took me away and placed my in the church and made me become a nun. That's where I've been ever since," Sam explained as she laced her fingers through Marks, "I'm glad to be out of that place. I didn't like it."  
"I'm glad you're all right. I'm glad you weren't hurt," Mark said. He smiles and kisses Sam on the lips. "What are we going to do now?"  
"I don't know. Find a place and then what…I don't know," Sam said softly. She laid her head on his shoulder and fell asleep. Soon Mark was dozing.  
Maureen stood and grabbed the blanket off the chair and covered the two. "Come on, JoJo," she said, pulling on Joanne's hand. The couple left the living room and went into their bedroom.

The next morning, Mark and Sam woke early. The two went around, looking for a place to stay. They found one, but neither had enough money to pay rent for more than two months. Sam's father had disowned her and taken away all of her funds and no one was looking for a model nor was there a need for library work. "What are we gonna do," Sam asked, sighing.

"We'll figure it out. The place wasn't too shabby and we can find work," Mark said, "Joanne's firm needs someone to shoot a commercial. I'll take the job."  
"Are you sure? You won't be happy," Sam said, kissing Mark on the lips.  
"As long as I am with you, I'm happy. That sounded so lame," he said, laughing.  
"It was, but, Mark, it was sweet," she said, watching the sun go down. Sam glanced at her watch. "I gotta go. I have a job interview," Sam said.  
"This late," Mark asked. He stared at her. "Sam…"  
"It's nothing. If I get it, I'll be paid well. Don't worry. It's not dangerous," she said, "Now, I gotta go. I'll see you in a few hours." Sam stood up and rushed down the hill.

Mark turned his camera on and filmed her retreating form. "What has she gotten into," he asked the camera. Hearing sirens, he turned. Two police cars raced down the hill and stopped at a convenience store. Four police officers exited the car and Mark filmed the whole thing.

Two teenaged boys were holding up the convenience store and the only hostage was the clerk. It took two hours, but finally the teenaged boys surrendered. They came out with their hands up and scowling. Mark filmed them until the police cars drove off.

Meanwhile, at The Cat Scratch Club, Sam Lewis was finishing getting ready. She was dressed in a two-piece silver swimsuit with a white miniskirt and white high-healed sandals. Sam wrung her hands and looked around nervously. Her knees began to knock together as the announcer introduced her.

"This new beaut is a fresh face, but I promise you all, she is a diamond in the rough. I give you….Lucy Diamond," he shouted. _Lucy in the Sky (with Diamonds)_ remixed into a dance mix began to play and Sam danced onto the stage. She felt stiff and unsure as she made her way over to the pole.

This was how the night went. She danced for three hours and managed to make over three hundred dollars. By midnight, she was exhausted. Undressing in the dressing room, she got into her street clothes and went home.

For four weeks, Sam did this and Mark was unaware. Every night after dancing, she would go to her room and cry. One night, while Mark was out, she just sat, staring out at the street. Roger was walking home in a huff. She watched him disappear into the building. A few minutes later, she heard banging and then the door opening.

Roger marched into the room. His face was livid. "I saw you last night. I was out all night thinking about….man! Does Mark know? Sam, does he know how you're paying for this place," he demanded.

Sam wiped her tears away. "No, he doesn't. I don't want him to know! Don't tell him," she begged.

"I won't. Just…are you doing drugs," he asked, "If you start…leave Mark. Come to me for help, got it? I don't want to see him hurt again because of drugs." Roger nodded and then left as the clock turned from 11:59 PM to 12 AM – July 1st.

* * *

(Well, what do you think? Please review!)_  
_


	7. July

July first was a very hot, steamy month. Mark was to start filming the commercial in Central Park. It turned out not to be a commercial for the firm, but an awareness commercial about being mugged and how to keep yourself from being mugged. The public service commercial wasn't something Mark wanted to film, however, he would be making 2500 for this one, 30-second commercial.

He only had one shot at this commercial. They wouldn't give him any more. That was scary and made this job kind of exciting. "OK, Mugging Awareness Commercial take One. Rolling," he shouted.

A girl was standing turned to the side. Her purse was draped over her arm. It did not even look like she was trying to prevent herself from being mugged. From the right side of the lens, a man strode over to her. He was not even trying to be discrete. Mark sighed. This was going to be one long day.

Mark was thankful it was time for lunch. He strode down the street. His hands in his pockets, looking at everything around him. He was filming as he went. Mark lowered his camera when he saw someone he least expected come towards him sulkily.

Roger's hands were in his pockets as well. His shoulders were hunched. He had a sheepish smile on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," Mark said back.

"Hey," Roger said, "Listen, Mark, I was a jerk. I'm, you know, sorry."

Mark nodded. "Yeah," Mark said, "Thanks."

"We cool?"

Mark nodded. "Of course."

"Listen, I've got some amazing news! Mimi's pregnant. I'm gonna be a dad."

"You're kiddin' me. Congratulations, Rog," Mark said, "Wanna get a bite to eat at the Life Café?"

Roger grinned and nodded. "Of course," he said as they entered.

They were shown to a seat and given menus. "French fries and a turkey burger," Roger said.

Mark didn't say anything. He was still deciding what to eat. The only thing that sounded good was a fried egg sandwich.

"So are you and Sam still together," Roget asked suddenly. He looked over at his friend. Concern was in his eyes.

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be," Mark asked. A frown creased his brow.

Before Roger could respond, Sam entered. She was smiling and looked exhausted. In this heat she was wearing a denim jacket. She rolled downed the sleeves of her jacket down quickly. "Hey, babe," Sam said, kissing him on the cheek. Sam looked at Roger at smiled. "Hey, Roger! Are you are Mark talking?"

Roger nodded. "Yeah," he said. He studied her. Something was wrong with her. He shook it off and rubbed his hands together. "Mimi and I are gonna be parents," he told her.

She squealed and ran over to him. Sam hugged him quickly. "Oh, congratulations," she breathed, "Can I join you for lunch? I'm starved."

"Of course," Roger said. He looked over at Mark, who looked quizzical.

"You haven't been hungry for weeks," Mark said slowly.

"I am today," she said. She plopped down in one of the seats. When the waiter came over, she smiled and waved at him. When he asked her what she wanted she replied, "French fries and a burger."

"Friend egg sandwich and green tea."

"French fries and a turkey burger."

"Got it. Anything else."

"Do you have any chocolate pie?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," the waiter said.

"I'll have a slice of that too," she said.

The waiter wrote it down and left.

Mark looked down at his camera. "I've been filming all this time," he said. He blinked.

"Great! I'll be perfect for the movie," Sam said. She reached over and touched Marks hand. "I love you so much. Let's get married…August twelfth in Central Park."

Mark had forgotten about his camera. "Are you serious?" He looked at Sam. He squeezed her hand tightly.

"Of course I am Mark Cohen!"

"OK…OK! Of course I will: Mark said. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

"Oye! Beers all around," Roger called. He waved the waiter over, "We're celebrating."

The waiter brought the drinks along with the meal. All three ate happily. As they ate, they talked.

"Well, I gotta dash! I have a wedding to plan," Sam said. She waved as she left. "What a month! It'll go so fast!"

And fast it went. When Sam was not working, she was planning her wedding, usually high. For Mark, he was filming everything. He also was working for the firm. Each week, he made a new commercial.

On July 31st, Sam leaned against the wall in a hallway. Tears were trickling down her face. She was shaking and sweating. In one hand, she held a needled syringe filled with heroin. In the other, a positive pregnancy test. Rain poured down around her. She dropped the syringe on the ground as well as the pregnancy test.

With shaking legs, Sam ran as fast as she could through the streets. One word ran through her head. He had told her to come to him if she had done drugs and she had been doing drugs all month. But, she wanted to quit. She had to. Reaching the lofts, she ran up the flight of steps. Sam knocked on the door. When it slid open, she breathed the word, 'Roger', and passed out.

Please review!!


	8. August

**Author's Note: I am SO sorry for not updating for nearly 4 years. A lot has happened in that time – I graduated college, I had and lost a boyfriend, I got my MFA, I've been published, I'm teaching, and I'm waiting to hear about my placement in a PhD program. However, in that time I have not forgotten this story. In fact, I started this chapter several times. Anyway, here's the new chapter. I hope you like. Please R&R!**

Mark paced Maureen and Joanne's flat. He kept looking at his watch and at the calendar to make sure he had the right date in mind. It was August 3. This was supposed to be his wedding day. So far, there was no best man, no maid of honor, and no bride. There was only the bridesmaids and the groom. That wasn't a wedding.

"Where are they," moaned Mark as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Marky poo, you know how girls are. I'm sure Sam's just putting the last touches on her make-up," said Maureen as she looked over her shoulder. Her hair was loose, except the sides (which had been pulled back), and the curls tumbled over her dove gray tank dress.

"Yeah, Mark, don't worry. They are only a half hour late. Maybe traffic's bad. It's not the first time that's happened. This is New York," Joanne said as she smoothed a wrinkle out of her dove gray pants and then checked her short curls to make sure they were in place. They were.

"You're right. You're right," said Mark with a smile. It was a forced grin though. He felt like something was off. He hadn't heard from Roger, Mimi, or Sam in a week. That was odd, but Mark had been busy preparing for the wedding as well as working on his newest project so it was no wonder he hadn't had any contact with them.

An hour passed and then a second and then a third. There was still no sign of any of them. Mark was now sure that something was terribly wrong.

"I'm going to go find them," Mark said. Neither Joanne nor Maureen stopped the filmmaker from grabbing his bicycle and rolling it to the door. Before he could exit, the door flung open.

In front of him was Roger. His arms were wrapped around Sam. She looked so small and sickly. Her eyes were rimmed Mark didn't remember Sam ever looking this bad. It scared him.

"What happened," Mark asked, noting she was in sweats and an old t-shirt. She was not her wedding gown.

"Mark," Sam whispered. She clung to Roger's arm and looked up at him.

Mark's eyes widen. "Are you two…" He asked. The man cussed under his breath as he shook his head and raked his fingers through his red hair. "I never thought."

"It's not what it looks and hey, I'm a happily married man. Thank-you very much," spat Roger.

"Then please enlighten me. You show up here with my fiancé in your arms and I haven't heard from either of you for several days. Maybe you two have spent those days in bed making love."

"Will you just shut up and listen?"

"Sure," Mark said in a flat voice. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Roger and Sam said nothing. "Well, I'm waiting."

"Do you want the good news first or the bad?"

"Is she sick?"

Sam nodded. "I need help, Mark. Roger told me to come to him if I needed _help_," she said. The young woman shrank behind Roger.

"I didn't want you hurt. I didn't want her to hurt you like I did! She was shooting up."

There was an audible gasp from everyone in the room. Mark's hand went to his mouth. "No, it can't be true. It can't," he whispered. "What were… are you on?"

"Heroin," she whispered. "I'm sorry Mark. I don't know why….I'm sorry. It's just at my job." Sam shrugged. "I grew weak. I thought I could do it once and I'd be fine. That wasn't the case."

"You don't say. You have AIDS too," asked Mark sharply, to which Sam shook her head.

"I've stopped. Roger helped. I had to," she gasped as tears fell down her cheeks. "Mark, I'm pregnant."

"With whose baby," Mark asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yours," Sam concluded. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I understand if you don't want to get married to me. I understand if you want me to get rid of the baby or put it up for adoption."

"No, I don't want that. I want you. I want you clean and healthy," Mark said. "Can we do that and then get married?"

Sam nodded as she moved around Roger. She went over to Mark and hugged him. "I am so sorry. I wish I hadn't," the young woman muttered.

"It's OK. It'll be OK," Mark said.

"We'll have to move. I gotta stop dancing."

"Is that where the drugs are?"

She nodded yet a third time. "Yeah."

"OK then," the filmmaker said as he looked at Roger. _Thank you_, he mouthed. To which, Roger nodded.

"Let's go home," Mark said as he lead Sam out the door.

"I'll drive you."

Four weeks later, Sam was over most of the withdrawals. She had lain in bed that time, coated in sweat. She shook and scratched as her legs constantly moved. Every once in awhile, she'd roll over and puke. Mark never left her side during that time. In fact, Roger and Mimi had brought him things so he could stay with her. After those 14 days, Sam woke to find Mark sleeping.

She pushed herself up and sat beside him. For awhile, she studied her fiancé and then woke him. He stared at her sleepily. "Hey. You want some breakfast?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Mark said.

"Thank you, Mark. You're my knight in shining armor. Did you know that?"

Mark chuckled. "I think you've told me that before. How are you feeling?"

"Weak…like a fool…and wanting a hit. But, I'm not going to do it. I'm not."

"Good girl," Mark said as he poured each of them a bowl of cereal.

"I'm gonna go to Life Support. I think I need to."

"Good idea."

"And I want to get married if you'll still marry me."

"I just took care of you for four weeks while you puked your guts out and sweated all over the sheets. If that isn't love and devotion, I don't know what is."

Sam laughed as she finished her bowl of cereal off. "I'm going to shower," said Sam as she put the container in the sink and ran water in it. Blowing Mark a kiss, she went to the bathroom.

When she showered, Mark made phone calls. A smirk was on his face as he grabbed a pale pink dress. He went in the bathroom and hung it up for her.

"What you doing," Sam asked as she scrubbed her hair.

"You'll see," Mark said as he dressed in his nice pants and shirt with tie. "We're going out."

After an hour, Sam came out wearing the dress. "It must be a special place we're going," she said as she headed to the door.

"Oh, it is. It is. You'll see," said Mark. He exited and closed the door behind them. Outside, Mark flagged a cab. He handed the cabbie a sheet of paper with the address on it. With a nod, he drove them to their destination, although it took twice as long as it should have.

When they pulled up to Life Support, there was a hand painted banner that said, CONGRATULATIONS MARK & SAM. Balloon hung on the posts and handrails. Roger, Joanne, Mimi, and Maureen were all there waiting for them. Maureen, Mimi, and Joanne all wore their dove colored clothes.

Looking over at Mark, Sam smiled and kissed him. "Thank you. This is more than I could ever expect or want," she said. Sam kissed him again.

"Hey, I didn't say, 'You may now kiss the bride'," said Roger with a laugh.

"You're a minister?" Sam asked.

"Hey, a guy's got to make a little money," said Roger. "Shall we begin?"

"Of course," Mark and Sam whispered.

"We are gathered here to witness the shacking up of two of the best people I know. Mark, take Sam's hand. Sam, take Mark's other hand," said Roger. When they had, he continued. "Mark, repeat after me…. I, Mark Cohen, take you Sam Lewis to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in richer and pourer- through thick and thin and unto death do us part."

"I, Mark Cohen, take you Sam Lewis to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in richer and pourer- through thick and thin and unto death do us part," Mark said. "I love you. You are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen even when you're sick. I can't believe how lucky I am to have found you."

Sam took a deep breath to keep herself from crying. She looked over at Roger as he said, "I, Sam Lewis, take you Mark Cohen, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold in richer and pourer- through thick and thin and unto death do us part."

She repeated those words and then added. "It is I who am lucky. You are the kindest and most caring person I've ever met. I don't deserve you, but I'm never going to give you up as long as you won't give me up," Sam said.

After they said I do, Roger proclaimed, "You may now kiss your bride."

Mark wraps his arms around Sam's waist. He raises her and they kiss. "Hello, Mrs. Cohen," he tells her.

"Hello, Mr. Cohen," Sam said. She looked over at the group. "Thank you."

"We'll have time to thank each other later. Let's go party," Roger said. He led them into the Life Support building and the group partied until Midnight.

**What did you all think? **


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